Sunday, 31 July 2011
Bad trailer alert - Fright Night
Is this a comedy or a thriller? The marketing team can't make up its mind.
Film review - Super 8
Super 8 travels the satisfying “life lessons through adventure” path of Stand By Me and The Goonies. And while it might not quite live up to those classics, it is still a great kids’ film which is a little too scary for kids.
Joe (Joel Courtney), a troubled boy living in a small town is spending the summer holidays helping his best friend (Riley Griffiths) make a zombie short on the titular film stock. One night while filming with major crush Alice (Elle Fanning), the gang witnesses a horrific accident which is a lot more sinister than it first seems. As the military takes over the town and people begin to disappear, it is up to the friends to piece together the mystery and save the day.
Like Stand By Me, the film is set around 30 years before present. While this journey into the past is unnecessary, 1979 is obviously a year dripping with nostalgia for writer/director J.J. Abrams just as 1956 was for Stephen King. The main character is also recently bereaved and is distant from his father, like Gordie before him.
If the set up isn’t unique, the execution mostly makes up for it. By combining Abram’s knack for giant creatures (see Cloverfield) and characterisation (see Star Trek, but not Lost, which was dire) we get a, dare I say it, rollercoaster ride as the children come to the rescue. The performances are also great, particularly from Fanning who is just luminous on screen.
Sweet, funny and exciting, Super 8 is a well-told adventure that just falls short of amazing.
Joe (Joel Courtney), a troubled boy living in a small town is spending the summer holidays helping his best friend (Riley Griffiths) make a zombie short on the titular film stock. One night while filming with major crush Alice (Elle Fanning), the gang witnesses a horrific accident which is a lot more sinister than it first seems. As the military takes over the town and people begin to disappear, it is up to the friends to piece together the mystery and save the day.
Like Stand By Me, the film is set around 30 years before present. While this journey into the past is unnecessary, 1979 is obviously a year dripping with nostalgia for writer/director J.J. Abrams just as 1956 was for Stephen King. The main character is also recently bereaved and is distant from his father, like Gordie before him.
If the set up isn’t unique, the execution mostly makes up for it. By combining Abram’s knack for giant creatures (see Cloverfield) and characterisation (see Star Trek, but not Lost, which was dire) we get a, dare I say it, rollercoaster ride as the children come to the rescue. The performances are also great, particularly from Fanning who is just luminous on screen.
Sweet, funny and exciting, Super 8 is a well-told adventure that just falls short of amazing.
Film review - Bridesmaids
When I saw the trailer for Bridesmaids, I thought it was just producer Judd Apatow’s answer to the accusations of mysogeny that followed Knocked Up. “Look, I can’t hate women – I’ve made a film showing them being just as stupid and gross as the men in my films.” Well, it’s so much more than that. The creation of SNL regular Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo, this is that rarest of things - a comedy about women that is genuinely hilarious and truthful.
The film follows Annie (Wiig), a single 30-something who is at a seriously low ebb. Her business has failed, she’s back to flat-sharing with randoms (including a strangely placed Matt Lucas), and she’s sleeping with a horrible hunk (the delicious Jon Hamm). When her best friend Lillian (Maya Rudolph) announces that she is getting married and wants her to be the maid of honour, Annie is forced to organise the wedding with a rag-tag group of bridesmaids, including alpha bitch Helen (Rose Byrne).
As the wedding plans and Annie’s sanity crumble, we are treated to some great set-pieces, including some classic gross-out moments. But there are lots of little exchanges that obviously stem from Wiig and Rudolph’s improvisational background which are even better.
The friendship between the two provides the main emotional story and feels very real. Perhaps the film could have been improved slightly by focusing more on that. The romance between Annie and the Irish cop (Chris O’Dowd from the IT Crowd) is totally adorable but a little too good to be true. Likewise the character of Megan (Melissa McCarthy), the oddest of the bridesmaids, is funny but feels forced – she’s too obviously a stand in for Zach Galifianakis in The Hangover.
Despite the distractions, this is a sweet, funny, uplifting and partially disgusting film which can be appreciated by more than just girls.
The film follows Annie (Wiig), a single 30-something who is at a seriously low ebb. Her business has failed, she’s back to flat-sharing with randoms (including a strangely placed Matt Lucas), and she’s sleeping with a horrible hunk (the delicious Jon Hamm). When her best friend Lillian (Maya Rudolph) announces that she is getting married and wants her to be the maid of honour, Annie is forced to organise the wedding with a rag-tag group of bridesmaids, including alpha bitch Helen (Rose Byrne).
As the wedding plans and Annie’s sanity crumble, we are treated to some great set-pieces, including some classic gross-out moments. But there are lots of little exchanges that obviously stem from Wiig and Rudolph’s improvisational background which are even better.
The friendship between the two provides the main emotional story and feels very real. Perhaps the film could have been improved slightly by focusing more on that. The romance between Annie and the Irish cop (Chris O’Dowd from the IT Crowd) is totally adorable but a little too good to be true. Likewise the character of Megan (Melissa McCarthy), the oddest of the bridesmaids, is funny but feels forced – she’s too obviously a stand in for Zach Galifianakis in The Hangover.
Despite the distractions, this is a sweet, funny, uplifting and partially disgusting film which can be appreciated by more than just girls.
Sunday, 3 April 2011
Film review - Submarine
All you need to know about the lovely Richard Ayoade’s debut feature is that if it had been American, the lead character would have been played by Michael Cera.
This coming of age film is mildly wacky, mildly funny, mildly moving, but extremely derivative. The only thing that differentiates it from 100 American indie films is that it is set in Wales.
Firstly, there’s Oliver (Craig Roberts) the main character – an intelligent but awkward teen trying to lose his virginity with a pretty, detached girl (Yasmin Paige). From this aspect the film reminds me most of 2009’s Youth in Revolt. As in that mess of a film, here the main character is extremely unlikeable.
Oliver spends most of his time staring wide-eyed at people, or in his room listening to French records and reading philosophy. This character is a fairly standard template in cinema, because lots of filmmakers liked listening to French records and reading philosophy in their teens, or at least like to think they did.
Oliver has an uncanny similarity to Bud Cort in the cult Harold and Maude, a film which taught Wes Anderson (and apparently in turn Ayoade) everything he knows. In Harold and Maude, the soundtrack was a collection of gently lilting songs made by Cat Stevens. In Submarine, Alex Turner from the hideous Arctic Monkeys picks up an acoustic guitar and has a go at being sensitive instead.
Of course, Oliver has troubles at home. His almost catatonic father (a mesmerising Noah Taylor) suffers from depression, and his mother (a much too young Sally Hawkins) has dowdy clothes and a bad haircut. Added to this, her old flame (Paddy Considine) has moved in next door. He’s a trendy twonk with a terrible mullet and a mid-Atlantic accent who works as a motivational speaker, offering people a chance to change their life through the power of light (so basically Patrick Swayze in Donnie Darko, then).
Just as coming of age films from the 70s were set in the 50s, so Submarine is set in the 80s. Not the real 80s, mind you, but the faux-80s of Napoleon Dynamite (basically today but without mobile phones). There aren’t any fun pop hits to set the scene, just a few odd outfits which wouldn’t seem out of place in any indie film set today. Annoyingly, one of the characters uses the phrase “it’s all good”, which would never have been said in Wales then.
Oliver walks around his depressing seaside town for most of the film – sometimes with the girl, sometimes thinking about the girl or his problem parents, but mostly thinking about himself. And maybe that’s the real problem. Oliver is selfish and doesn’t react how you would want him to react to the genuine dramas around him. If this was slightly wackier and played fully for laughs, maybe it would be ok, but it isn’t.
Submarine brings nothing new to the genre. It doesn’t innovate, and it certainly doesn’t impress. It’s nice that Ayoade was trying to make an interesting British film, but unfortunately he failed by simply copying the Americans.
Watch Harold and Maude instead.
This coming of age film is mildly wacky, mildly funny, mildly moving, but extremely derivative. The only thing that differentiates it from 100 American indie films is that it is set in Wales.
Firstly, there’s Oliver (Craig Roberts) the main character – an intelligent but awkward teen trying to lose his virginity with a pretty, detached girl (Yasmin Paige). From this aspect the film reminds me most of 2009’s Youth in Revolt. As in that mess of a film, here the main character is extremely unlikeable.
Oliver spends most of his time staring wide-eyed at people, or in his room listening to French records and reading philosophy. This character is a fairly standard template in cinema, because lots of filmmakers liked listening to French records and reading philosophy in their teens, or at least like to think they did.
Oliver has an uncanny similarity to Bud Cort in the cult Harold and Maude, a film which taught Wes Anderson (and apparently in turn Ayoade) everything he knows. In Harold and Maude, the soundtrack was a collection of gently lilting songs made by Cat Stevens. In Submarine, Alex Turner from the hideous Arctic Monkeys picks up an acoustic guitar and has a go at being sensitive instead.
Of course, Oliver has troubles at home. His almost catatonic father (a mesmerising Noah Taylor) suffers from depression, and his mother (a much too young Sally Hawkins) has dowdy clothes and a bad haircut. Added to this, her old flame (Paddy Considine) has moved in next door. He’s a trendy twonk with a terrible mullet and a mid-Atlantic accent who works as a motivational speaker, offering people a chance to change their life through the power of light (so basically Patrick Swayze in Donnie Darko, then).
Just as coming of age films from the 70s were set in the 50s, so Submarine is set in the 80s. Not the real 80s, mind you, but the faux-80s of Napoleon Dynamite (basically today but without mobile phones). There aren’t any fun pop hits to set the scene, just a few odd outfits which wouldn’t seem out of place in any indie film set today. Annoyingly, one of the characters uses the phrase “it’s all good”, which would never have been said in Wales then.
Oliver walks around his depressing seaside town for most of the film – sometimes with the girl, sometimes thinking about the girl or his problem parents, but mostly thinking about himself. And maybe that’s the real problem. Oliver is selfish and doesn’t react how you would want him to react to the genuine dramas around him. If this was slightly wackier and played fully for laughs, maybe it would be ok, but it isn’t.
Submarine brings nothing new to the genre. It doesn’t innovate, and it certainly doesn’t impress. It’s nice that Ayoade was trying to make an interesting British film, but unfortunately he failed by simply copying the Americans.
Watch Harold and Maude instead.
Monday, 21 March 2011
Tearjerkers that don’t make me cry, but just make me angry
I love a good weepie. I can also appreciate some quite bad ones (give me a disease of the week TV movie any day of the week). But sometimes a film that is supposed to be moving makes me so angry that I want to scream. Instead of screaming, I’m going to list my top five terrible tearjerkers.
WARNING: This article contains serious spoilers. Also, because I dislike these films intensely, I refuse to watch them again to write this. Therefore my views will be coloured by the inaccuracy of memory.
Million Dollar Baby (2004)
Yes, I realise this won best picture, director, actress and supporting actor Oscars, but it is an incredibly stupid film. Here are my problems:
1. Morgan Freeman’s narration
Why? Because it’s a movie law that every film has to be narrated by Morgan Freeman, otherwise it isn’t a “quality” film. He’s hardly in it and his philosophical musings add nothing.
2. The main character’s goal is pointless
There isn’t any money in female boxing so why would it change her life?
3 The random Irish fetishism
When Hilary Swank fights in London, the audience starts chanting “Mo Cuishle”. Why the hell would an English audience know what that means in Gaelic? Oh, and by the way Clint, tartan clad pipers are Scottish, not Irish. There’s a difference.
4. Her parents
I know human beings are capable of immense cruelty, but really, are people that horrible to their own daughter? Even after such a terrible accident? Even if they are trailer trash? Don’t they have feelings? In my experience (watching Maury Povich) trailer trash folks have lots of feelings.
5. The final fight
In a championship fight, if your opponent throws an illegal punch, seriously injuring you, shouldn’t they be disqualified and you win by default? Yet she lies in the hospital bed angry that she never won anything.
6. The ending
Of course it is tragic, moving and upsetting, but it comes from nowhere. You might as well have the lead character in every film get paralysed from the neck down ten minutes before the end and then have to be euthanised by a paternal figure. Would that have made Pee-wee’s Big Adventure an artistic masterpiece?
21 Grams (2003)
Director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu likes to make films about lots of disparate characters all connected by a tragic event, and 21 Grams is no different. Here we have a woman whose family dies in a car crash (Naomi Watts), the man who killed them (Benicio Del Toro), and the man who receives a new heart from her dead husband (Sean Penn). Inarritu also likes to make films out of sequence, zipping back and forward in the timeline.
I love non-linear timelines as much as the next Tarantino fan, but is there any point when it is clear right from the beginning exactly what has happened and how these people relate to each other? There are exactly zero “ooooooo” moments in this film – no reveals, no surprises, just abject misery.
The whole thing seems to have been created to make the director and screenwriter feel clever. “Oh look,” they say, “I can cut up a story and rearrange it randomly even though it adds nothing to the audience experience.” Well done. You should feel proud.
All the characters are so dull that you don’t really care about how guilty they feel or whatever. But the truly terrible thing about this film is Charlotte Gainsbourg as the heart transplant recipient’s wife. I guess she’s supposed to be English, but as the actress is the product of the song Je t’aime, she has this bizarre, sing-songy mid-Channel accent that makes you want to slit your own throat.
For fans of nipples, there’s a lingering shot of Naomi Watts’s standing to attention, but otherwise this film has nothing to recommend it. Depressing, and not in a good way.
Dying Young (1991)
Firstly, this must have one of the worst titles in film history. It isn’t exactly dynamic, is it? You could at least expect it to be accurate, but no-one dies, young or old. You don’t even get the satisfaction of seeing the bastard with cancer snuff it.
This supposedly heart-warming tale centres on a spoilt brat with leukaemia (played with steely-eyed malice by Campbell Scott) and his “romance” with a beautiful girl from the wrong side of the tracks (a radiant Julia Roberts basking in post-Pretty Woman career glow). For “romance”, read “twisted, abusive relationship”. They meet when he puts an ad in the paper for a sexy nurse. Julia applies and gets the job because, although she has no experience, she has beautiful red locks and a hot bod.
As she cares for him through chemo, he proceeds to belittle her lack of culture by lecturing her on art history. He is studying the German expressionists, y’see, but shows her slides of works by Klimt and Rossetti – neither of whom were German nor expressionists – because they liked to paint naked redheads (I told you it was twisted).
By putting her down and lying to her face, he somehow tricks her into falling in love with him and they then go away to a house by the sea. There Julia meets a lovely handyman (played by Vincent D’Onofrio) with whom she has lots in common. Campbell Scott doesn’t like this, so he throws a hissy fit and laughs in their faces about how they watched TV when growing up instead of doing cultural things like him (probably staring at more paintings of naked redheads).
For some reason, the screenwriter and director think you should like Scott’s character, though all he does is whine and be mean to Julia. When they decide to try and fight his disease together at the end, you really are disappointed. Originally he was supposed to die and she ended up with the handyman, but the test audiences hated it so it was changed.
Thanks, Hollywood. Thanks a lot.
Jerry Maguire (1996)
They lost me at “show me the money”.
Rudy (1993)
Most English people will not have heard of Rudy. It is, however, on the official list of “films it is ok for American men to cry at” – a list which I believe also contains Brian’s Song and Field of Dreams. These are all about American sports, y’see, and crying isn’t gay if it’s about sport.
Anyway, Rudy tells the true story of Daniel “Rudy” Ruettiger (Sean Astin – otherwise known as Samwise Gamgee), who has always dreamed of playing for Notre Dame (pronounced “noder dayme”) College’s football team. However, he’s short, not very good at football and doesn’t have the money or brains for college.
Most people would leave it at that and get on with their lives, but not Rudy. He’s going to achieve his dream, no matter what it takes. So he goes to junior college and works really, really hard, improving his grades enough to go to Notre Dame for one final semester. All the while he volunteers to mow the grass and to be a “tackling dummy” for the football team – anything to be close to them.
After having to sleep in the locker room because he has nowhere else to go and badgering the coach for literally years, Rudy finally gets a chance to play.
For two minutes.
The film culminates in him playing right at the end of an actual game, and he manages one tackle. And that’s it. That’s what he’s wasted the prime years of his life for. He doesn’t even win the game for the team or anything, just does one tackle after the game’s already won!
Just because you have a dream, it doesn’t mean that it can, will or even should come true. There should be more films with that message, rather than lionising people who do things as pointless as Rudy Ruettiger.
WARNING: This article contains serious spoilers. Also, because I dislike these films intensely, I refuse to watch them again to write this. Therefore my views will be coloured by the inaccuracy of memory.
Million Dollar Baby (2004)
Yes, I realise this won best picture, director, actress and supporting actor Oscars, but it is an incredibly stupid film. Here are my problems:
1. Morgan Freeman’s narration
Why? Because it’s a movie law that every film has to be narrated by Morgan Freeman, otherwise it isn’t a “quality” film. He’s hardly in it and his philosophical musings add nothing.
2. The main character’s goal is pointless
There isn’t any money in female boxing so why would it change her life?
3 The random Irish fetishism
When Hilary Swank fights in London, the audience starts chanting “Mo Cuishle”. Why the hell would an English audience know what that means in Gaelic? Oh, and by the way Clint, tartan clad pipers are Scottish, not Irish. There’s a difference.
 |
| She’s wearing green because he likes Irish things. |
I know human beings are capable of immense cruelty, but really, are people that horrible to their own daughter? Even after such a terrible accident? Even if they are trailer trash? Don’t they have feelings? In my experience (watching Maury Povich) trailer trash folks have lots of feelings.
5. The final fight
In a championship fight, if your opponent throws an illegal punch, seriously injuring you, shouldn’t they be disqualified and you win by default? Yet she lies in the hospital bed angry that she never won anything.
6. The ending
Of course it is tragic, moving and upsetting, but it comes from nowhere. You might as well have the lead character in every film get paralysed from the neck down ten minutes before the end and then have to be euthanised by a paternal figure. Would that have made Pee-wee’s Big Adventure an artistic masterpiece?
21 Grams (2003)
Director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu likes to make films about lots of disparate characters all connected by a tragic event, and 21 Grams is no different. Here we have a woman whose family dies in a car crash (Naomi Watts), the man who killed them (Benicio Del Toro), and the man who receives a new heart from her dead husband (Sean Penn). Inarritu also likes to make films out of sequence, zipping back and forward in the timeline.
 |
| Cheer up, it might never happen. Oh yeah, it already did. |
The whole thing seems to have been created to make the director and screenwriter feel clever. “Oh look,” they say, “I can cut up a story and rearrange it randomly even though it adds nothing to the audience experience.” Well done. You should feel proud.
All the characters are so dull that you don’t really care about how guilty they feel or whatever. But the truly terrible thing about this film is Charlotte Gainsbourg as the heart transplant recipient’s wife. I guess she’s supposed to be English, but as the actress is the product of the song Je t’aime, she has this bizarre, sing-songy mid-Channel accent that makes you want to slit your own throat.
For fans of nipples, there’s a lingering shot of Naomi Watts’s standing to attention, but otherwise this film has nothing to recommend it. Depressing, and not in a good way.
Dying Young (1991)
Firstly, this must have one of the worst titles in film history. It isn’t exactly dynamic, is it? You could at least expect it to be accurate, but no-one dies, young or old. You don’t even get the satisfaction of seeing the bastard with cancer snuff it.
This supposedly heart-warming tale centres on a spoilt brat with leukaemia (played with steely-eyed malice by Campbell Scott) and his “romance” with a beautiful girl from the wrong side of the tracks (a radiant Julia Roberts basking in post-Pretty Woman career glow). For “romance”, read “twisted, abusive relationship”. They meet when he puts an ad in the paper for a sexy nurse. Julia applies and gets the job because, although she has no experience, she has beautiful red locks and a hot bod.
As she cares for him through chemo, he proceeds to belittle her lack of culture by lecturing her on art history. He is studying the German expressionists, y’see, but shows her slides of works by Klimt and Rossetti – neither of whom were German nor expressionists – because they liked to paint naked redheads (I told you it was twisted).
 |
| Don’t do it Julia! |
For some reason, the screenwriter and director think you should like Scott’s character, though all he does is whine and be mean to Julia. When they decide to try and fight his disease together at the end, you really are disappointed. Originally he was supposed to die and she ended up with the handyman, but the test audiences hated it so it was changed.
Thanks, Hollywood. Thanks a lot.
Jerry Maguire (1996)
They lost me at “show me the money”.
 |
| I know, Tom. What does it mean? And why do you have to keep shouting it? |
Rudy (1993)
Most English people will not have heard of Rudy. It is, however, on the official list of “films it is ok for American men to cry at” – a list which I believe also contains Brian’s Song and Field of Dreams. These are all about American sports, y’see, and crying isn’t gay if it’s about sport.
Anyway, Rudy tells the true story of Daniel “Rudy” Ruettiger (Sean Astin – otherwise known as Samwise Gamgee), who has always dreamed of playing for Notre Dame (pronounced “noder dayme”) College’s football team. However, he’s short, not very good at football and doesn’t have the money or brains for college.
 |
| Rudy - he may be small but he dreams big. |
After having to sleep in the locker room because he has nowhere else to go and badgering the coach for literally years, Rudy finally gets a chance to play.
For two minutes.
The film culminates in him playing right at the end of an actual game, and he manages one tackle. And that’s it. That’s what he’s wasted the prime years of his life for. He doesn’t even win the game for the team or anything, just does one tackle after the game’s already won!
Just because you have a dream, it doesn’t mean that it can, will or even should come true. There should be more films with that message, rather than lionising people who do things as pointless as Rudy Ruettiger.
Wednesday, 2 March 2011
Film review - The King's Speech
This classy telling of a previously little-known story from royal history is a funny and moving film. Small scale, quick paced, yet conversation heavy, director Tom Hooper carries you to a very nice crescendo.
Colin Firth plays Bertie, Duke of York and future George VI – a man who truly had greatness thrust upon him. As his brother Edward sees more and more of Mrs Simpson, Bertie has to make more public appearances and the stutter that has plagued his life becomes an issue of national importance. Having seen every expert in London, his wife (Helena Bonham Carter) suggests he tries the unconventional speech therapist Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush).
After some false starts and voice training montages, the therapy begins to work and we find out more about both Bertie and Lionel. This is where the film shines as Firth and Rush spar and then show their true feelings.
Although Firth bears little resemblance to the real Bertie, he’s got the double speech impediment of stutter and rhotacism down pat. The character is often rude and stubborn, but you always get the sense that he’s just hurting inside thanks to Firth’s sensitive performance. Geoffrey Rush is even better as Lionel. His methods may be slightly unconventional for the time, but he isn’t your normal wacky, inspirational teacher in the Robin Williams mould – he is calm and witty, eclipsing the prince with his dignified air despite his lowly upbringing.
The supporting cast is very good – Bonham Carter is curt and efficient as the future Queen Mum, Guy Pearce makes a cruel Edward VIII and it is lovely to see Ramona Marquez from Outnumbered as the young Princess Margaret. There’s a weird moment for fans of that wet shirt where Jennifery Ehle (playing Lionel’s wife) shares the screen with Firth – Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy are briefly reunited.
Real life is rarely very neat and doesn’t build to many moving crescendos, so obviously the screenwriter has taken liberties with the story. Also, the stakes really weren’t as high as is made out (imagine what would have happened if it was Churchill who had the speech problem). King George inspired people by the deed of staying in London during the Blitz more than through words even after a cure, so really this is about a personal victory.
The King’s Speech is a simple tale, well told, and is incredibly, incredibly nice. Not great, but definitely nice – and there’s nothing wrong with that.
Colin Firth plays Bertie, Duke of York and future George VI – a man who truly had greatness thrust upon him. As his brother Edward sees more and more of Mrs Simpson, Bertie has to make more public appearances and the stutter that has plagued his life becomes an issue of national importance. Having seen every expert in London, his wife (Helena Bonham Carter) suggests he tries the unconventional speech therapist Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush).
After some false starts and voice training montages, the therapy begins to work and we find out more about both Bertie and Lionel. This is where the film shines as Firth and Rush spar and then show their true feelings.
Although Firth bears little resemblance to the real Bertie, he’s got the double speech impediment of stutter and rhotacism down pat. The character is often rude and stubborn, but you always get the sense that he’s just hurting inside thanks to Firth’s sensitive performance. Geoffrey Rush is even better as Lionel. His methods may be slightly unconventional for the time, but he isn’t your normal wacky, inspirational teacher in the Robin Williams mould – he is calm and witty, eclipsing the prince with his dignified air despite his lowly upbringing.
The supporting cast is very good – Bonham Carter is curt and efficient as the future Queen Mum, Guy Pearce makes a cruel Edward VIII and it is lovely to see Ramona Marquez from Outnumbered as the young Princess Margaret. There’s a weird moment for fans of that wet shirt where Jennifery Ehle (playing Lionel’s wife) shares the screen with Firth – Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy are briefly reunited.
Real life is rarely very neat and doesn’t build to many moving crescendos, so obviously the screenwriter has taken liberties with the story. Also, the stakes really weren’t as high as is made out (imagine what would have happened if it was Churchill who had the speech problem). King George inspired people by the deed of staying in London during the Blitz more than through words even after a cure, so really this is about a personal victory.
The King’s Speech is a simple tale, well told, and is incredibly, incredibly nice. Not great, but definitely nice – and there’s nothing wrong with that.
Wednesday, 16 February 2011
Film review - Black Swan
Darren Aronofsky’s follow up to The Wrestler is set in a very different world – we’ve moved from the amateur wrestling ring in Nowheresville to the New York City Ballet Company. Black Swan is another portrait of a troubled soul, though. A very, very troubled soul. A completely demented soul. This psychological thriller may be far too loopy, but it is gripping none the less.
Nina (Natalie Portman) is a sweet, quiet and dedicated member of the corps de ballet waiting for her chance to shine. The company’s director (Vincent Cassel) wants to cast someone new as the Swan Queen in his production of Swan Lake, but he tells Nina that she doesn’t have the darkness and nastiness needed to play this dual role of the white and black swan. After she shows him her feisty side, he gives her the part. However, things begin to unravel for Nina as the pressure and the need to express her dark side become too much.
The descent into madness is at first intriguing, then revolting, but ultimately laughable. Body horror is not my favourite thing, and there is much tearing of fingernails and ripping of skin here. One can’t help thinking that it would have been a better film had she been slightly less psychotic and things weren’t taken so far.
Aronofsky has chosen to film the whole thing as he did The Wrestler – in shaky cam style following the lead character around. On the one hand this seems a very odd choice for a film about a majestic art form like ballet (you don’t really get a true sense of the dancing because the shots are always so claustrophobic), but on the other hand it does mean you get to see a lot of what is best about the film – Natalie Portman. Not only is she vulnerable, childlike, hysterical and sensual by turns, she also does most of her own dancing. Her performance is a tour de force and deserves an Oscar.
Barbara Hershey is also excellent as Nina’s terrifying mother, Erica. There are few characters as nutty as Nina in film history, but Erica comes close, and is creepy as hell to boot. Mila Kunis displays her natural charm as Lily, a rival dancer seen as a threat by Nina. Only Winona Ryder seems out of place somehow as a principal dancer past her prime.
If the cinematography isn’t really to my tastes, then the set design made up for this. The liberal use of black and white in most scenes does labour the metaphor a bit (one that is also repeated in costume choices), but it gives the film an unusual and stylish look. Even in Nina’s über-pink bedroom there is a black swan soft toy among the pink fluffy bunnies.
Black Swan is an extremely dramatic film, and will not be to everyone’s tastes. If you let the drama transport you, you may be carried along to the finale. But if you stop to think, you may realise how silly it all is and exit stage left.
Nina (Natalie Portman) is a sweet, quiet and dedicated member of the corps de ballet waiting for her chance to shine. The company’s director (Vincent Cassel) wants to cast someone new as the Swan Queen in his production of Swan Lake, but he tells Nina that she doesn’t have the darkness and nastiness needed to play this dual role of the white and black swan. After she shows him her feisty side, he gives her the part. However, things begin to unravel for Nina as the pressure and the need to express her dark side become too much.
The descent into madness is at first intriguing, then revolting, but ultimately laughable. Body horror is not my favourite thing, and there is much tearing of fingernails and ripping of skin here. One can’t help thinking that it would have been a better film had she been slightly less psychotic and things weren’t taken so far.
Aronofsky has chosen to film the whole thing as he did The Wrestler – in shaky cam style following the lead character around. On the one hand this seems a very odd choice for a film about a majestic art form like ballet (you don’t really get a true sense of the dancing because the shots are always so claustrophobic), but on the other hand it does mean you get to see a lot of what is best about the film – Natalie Portman. Not only is she vulnerable, childlike, hysterical and sensual by turns, she also does most of her own dancing. Her performance is a tour de force and deserves an Oscar.
Barbara Hershey is also excellent as Nina’s terrifying mother, Erica. There are few characters as nutty as Nina in film history, but Erica comes close, and is creepy as hell to boot. Mila Kunis displays her natural charm as Lily, a rival dancer seen as a threat by Nina. Only Winona Ryder seems out of place somehow as a principal dancer past her prime.
If the cinematography isn’t really to my tastes, then the set design made up for this. The liberal use of black and white in most scenes does labour the metaphor a bit (one that is also repeated in costume choices), but it gives the film an unusual and stylish look. Even in Nina’s über-pink bedroom there is a black swan soft toy among the pink fluffy bunnies.
Black Swan is an extremely dramatic film, and will not be to everyone’s tastes. If you let the drama transport you, you may be carried along to the finale. But if you stop to think, you may realise how silly it all is and exit stage left.
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